


now is not the time for regret

by zarabithia



Category: Actor RPF, Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: M/M, Open Relationship, You Can Pry the Present Tense From My Cold Dead Hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 10:37:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12933483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: “Make me filthy, Timmy,” he orders light-heartedly.“I’m the only one who gets to, ” Timmy says. “So many people want to, because you’re so beautiful and talented… But only Elizabeth and me get to have you. And I’m the only one who gets to make you filthy.”





	now is not the time for regret

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a fill for a tumblr request.

Someone, although Armie can’t quite remember who at the moment, had once said that Timmy was “awfully child-like.” Was it his mother? Armie thinks it might have been his mother.

But the last thing Armie wants to do right now is think about his mother. The only reason her words come to mind at all is because the deep guttural moans Timmy is allowing to escape against Armie’s collarbone - in between his attempts to suck away Armie’s skin entirely - sound nothing at all like that of a _child_.

Nor are Timmy’s hands remotely like those of a child; the long, slender fingers wrapped around Armie’s cock are those of a man who is skilled in bringing other men to a quivering, begging mess. Timmy’s dick, as long as those fingers had promised, teased and threatened during a Summer that had been all at once too long and too short, brushes and grinds down with equal enthusiasm, keeping up a rhythm with Timmy’s strokes that lesser men would find exhausting. The alternating rhythm is a perfect picture of everything Timmy is and has been too Armie - too much and a dangerous tease of something that isn't quite his. It's too much, not enough, and everything Armie needs, all at once and that is exactly what Timmy has been since the day Armie interrupted his piano lesson. 

Armie doesn’t like to beg in bed, no matter how skilled his partner may be. So when Timothy’s skills, hands and movement all become a wave of overwhelming sensations that are far too much for Armie to handle, he simply buries his head into the top of Timmy’s mass of damp curls and grunts a warning. Timmy curls his free hand into Armie shoulder as an acknowledgement. The grip is so tight that Armie is certain for a moment that the nails will draw blood.

But the moment is brief because Armie quickly arrives to a point where the pain is both irrelevant and essential to the overwhelming sensations taking over his body. Timmy’s nails in Armie’s shoulder are a whisper of “it’s okay, buddy, I’ve got you,” and they are the final encouragement he needs to come, spilling himself all over Timmy’s chest and his own.

Timmy is still hard; Armie can feel him against his own limp cock, when Timmy reaches up and licks the come from fingers covered in it.

Armie wants to lie here forever and watch Timmy. Timmy always looks beautiful but he is an especially beautiful sight now, naked, sweaty, and licking come off his fingers as though it is the most delicious thing in the world. 

But it would be selfish to lie here and just stare, he thinks. He’s exhausted, but he starts to rise up to take care of Timmy.

Timmy places a hand on his chest. “Lie back,” he says. “You’ve had a crappy week. Let me take care of you.”

Armie doesn’t like taking orders, but he likes Timmy taking care of him…. And he is exhausted. So he agrees to Timmy’s request and leans back.

“Make me filthy, Timmy,” he orders light-heartedly. He hopes it sounds light-hearted, anyway, but his ears mock him in a way that Timmy won't. 

“I’m the only one who gets to, ” Timmy says. “So many people want to, because you’re so beautiful and talented… But only me and Elizabeth get to have you. And I’m the only one who gets to make you _filthy._ ”

Armie used to believe that people who got off on praise kink were pathetic and weak…but Timmy’s words hit him hard, knocking him silent and willing. He lies spread before Timmy as Timmy jerks off above him, content to metaphorically lap up the praise as enthusiastically as Timmy had been lapping up Armie's come literally seconds before.

There’s a knot in his throat that Armie doesn’t want to acknowledge. And by the time the Timmy comes all over his chest, Armie is a mess in more ways than one.

“Lie beside me,” Armie orders, his voice too soft to his own ears to have much power.

But Timmy’s smile, as bright as an Italian summer, offers Timmy’s consent. As Timmy lies down beside him, Armie knows they are going to regret not washing off immediately once the sticky wetness dries. 

But now is not the time for regret. Now is the time for appreciation, and Armie’s arms are full of it.


End file.
